A story of success, failure and redemption
First of three parts
Harthorne Wingo gingerly lifted his 6-foot-6 frame from the chair in the Brooklyn doughnut shop where he spends part of nearly every day, reaching for his nearby cane while standing.
New York City baked on a warm summer's day, an afternoon where a younger Wingo might well have been found at Rucker Park, the legendary Harlem basketball court where NBA stars routinely traded elbows and baskets with playground legends. Wingo would become one of those legends, deemed one of the 50 greatest to ever play in the Pro League there, the Rucker becoming the stepping stone to a professional career.
You can leave Polk County, North Carolina, and get to Madison Square Garden by car in some 11 hours, but to make that journey and actually step onto the famed Garden floor? Wingo did it in five years, going from a street corner in Tryon to donning a New York Knicks uniform, an unlikely journey from dirt courts to playing alongside the world's best. Along the way he collected an NBA championship, plus titles on two other continents, and even earned a place in pop culture with a mention in the Beastie Boys song "Lay It On Me" ("My favorite New York Knick was Harthorne Wingo...").
Not that the only NBA player that Polk County has ever produced dwells much on past fame these days. Wingo's more worried about his arthritic right hip that needs a replacement, plus costly rehab to follow. The new hip would allow him, even at age 70, to spend more time back on basketball courts, to share his story with New York City youth, maybe to even travel back to the hometown he still loves.
It's another challenge to overcome in a life that has been filled with them.
Breaking Barriers
Breaking the color barrier at Tryon High School meant a lot less walking every day for Harthorne Wingo.
Walking to Edmund Embury School every day from the home he shared with 14 brothers and sisters meant going down one long hill, slogging up another and then doing the reverse at day's end. On cold mornings, the end of the walk rarely meant the end of the chill; finding a warm room at Embury in the winter was a luxury.
So when Tryon City Schools decided to reassign a group of African-American students to Tryon High in 1964, even before court-ordered integration forced them to drop all racial barriers, Wingo welcomed the opportunity to make the shorter trip each day.
As it so often does, sports helped ease the transition to the previously all-white campus.
"I remember one day a friend of mine who lived down the hill, Bill Brown, came to me and said 'Harthorne, let's go around the corner to the gym (the old gym at Tryon High). Some guys are down there playing ball, and let's see if we can go play with them," Wingo said.
"We went down there, and we went in the gym and we stood around in the corner. There was one of the greatest basketball players to ever come out of Tryon, a guy by the name of Duke Fisher. He was great. Duke and some other guys, there were about five or six other guys, they didn't have enough for a full court. So Duke said, 'Hey, c'mon, you guys wanna play?' So we went out there and played.
"At that time, it was the beginning of integration. We played, and after the game, Duke said, 'Hey, we're going to be out here tomorrow. You guys, come back and we'll be out here playing.' We played all that summer at the old gym with those guys. Two years later they integrated schools, and it wasn't a problem because I knew most of the players anyway."
Wingo entered Tryon High as a senior, leaving behind friends and basketball teammates at Embury. He initially joined the Tigers' football team, but "flunked out," in his words, and left the squad. Tryon High basketball coach Bill Barry soon pulled Wingo aside.
"Mr. Barry came to me and said 'Don't worry about it. I want you to go the gym every day instead of going to football practice. Phillip Culbreth and Bill Stevenson, they'll be up there lifting weights, and I want you to go lift weights with those guys.' So I went up there every day and I met Bill and Phil," Wingo said. "Very nice guys, and we became good friends."
Wingo would be the only African-American starter on the Tigers' roster that season, joining a team already headlined by Tryon standouts Andy Hancock and Bill Metcalf. He didn't play in the team's season opener at Rosman, his first action coming at Brevard with a 20-point effort in a 54-53 win. Still adjusting to their new teammate, the Tigers meandered to a 3-3 record before catching fire, winning 15 straight games and the Foothills Conference regular season and tournament championships. Wingo and Hancock earned all-conference honors, with Metcalf a second-team selection.
But the team's hopes for a state championship would end quickly in a 59-55 loss to Bakersville High School in the first round of the Class A district tournament. Wingo capped his season with 17 points, 29 rebounds and six blocked shots in that loss, which left the Tigers with an 18-4 record in their first season with an integrated roster.
Wingo, the trailblazer, could not have enjoyed the season more.
"I did hear a few obscene names being called, but it didn't matter to me because my teammates were fully behind me, 100 percent," he said. "They had no problems.
"Bill and Phil were always there. Every place we went to play, Bill was on this side of me and Phil was on this side. Those guys were really great guys, and I never had a chance to thank them. They made me feel a lot better because every place we went, I was (one of the few blacks) in the conference at that time, in the gym, period. But it didn't matter that much because all the guys supported me. They all accepted me, and Coach Barry was wonderful. He was great. I missed my teammates across town, but these guys made it a lot easier to deal with. Plus, we won a lot of games."
Barry's role with his new star didn't end with the loss to Bakersville. He worked tirelessly to find a college home for Wingo, a place for him to continue his basketball career while pursuing a degree. The two spent several Saturdays visiting college campuses until Wingo, facing at least a year of college prep school before attending any university, decided he had spent enough time pursuing a four-year option. He spent a year at Friendship Junior College, then returned home, unsure of what to do or where to go next.
The answer, and a new challenge, would soon arrive.